The Assassin's Destiny (Isle of Dreams) (44 page)

‘I have never witnessed a more
ridiculous pairing than you two!’  Phantom exclaimed in an exasperated
voice.  ‘You’re fretting over an assassin credited with more kills than
I’ve had hot dinners and he regularly tries to die protecting one of the most
stubbornly indestructible creatures on the Isle!’

Mistral gave a wry laugh, ‘I
know.  Stupid isn’t it?’

‘There is nothing stupid about
love.  Irrational maybe.’  Phantasm murmured, riding up on Mistral’s
left. 

Mistral sighed and pushed her troubled
thoughts to the back of her mind, concentrating instead on the journey ahead of
them.

‘Which way are we going? 
Through the Southern Range or across the marshlands?’  she asked, gazing
ahead of them to where the meadows met the foothills of the Southern Range.

‘Through the marshes.’
 Phantasm confirmed.  ‘It’s been dry for the last three weeks so it
should be safe enough, and it’ll cut about a day off our journey.’

Mistral nodded her
agreement.  Although the hunting opportunities through the Southern Range
would have provided a good distraction, she didn’t particularly want to be
reminded of the week long chimera hunt Fabian had taken her on as a holiday
after her Qualification.

‘Tell me about The Festival of
the Arcane,’ she demanded abruptly when Fabian threatened to fill her mind
again.

‘I’m afraid we’re not too well
informed on the subject.’  Phantasm admitted with a frown.  ‘Like
you, we were mostly raised in a sorcering community and the years we spent with
our tribe must have fallen between Festivals because I don’t recall hearing
much about it.’

‘However, I know a brother who
can answer all your questions … Saul!’ 

Phantom had called out before
Mistral could stop him.  She grimaced and kept her eyes fixed on her hands
as Saul pulled his horse between her and Phantom, smiling slightly.

‘You yelled?’

‘Tell Mistral about the Festival,
she’s curious to know all the facts, as are we actually –’

Saul frowned at Mistral for a
moment and then his face cleared, ‘I always forget you weren’t raised by a
tribe.  It was Nevelte wasn’t it?’

Mistral nodded wordlessly, trying
to hide the discomfort she was feeling.  She could kill Phantom.  She
and Saul had barely spoken a word since her wedding and all the events that had
followed, not least of all her threatening to take her own life at the thought
of Fabian dying.  She cringed inwardly at how selfish and petulant that
must have made her seem.

‘Well it’s no surprise you’ve
never heard of it then.  The Festival of the Arcane is strictly
non-Mage.  What goes on there is a fiercely guarded secret.  Not that
there’s anything Mages would be remotely interested in, it’s more a matter of
Arcane pride.  It’s a celebration of Arcane skills, well a tournament
rather than a celebration.  It’s held every five years over the summer
solstice.  The title of ultimate champion carries a lot of kudos for the
tribe of the winning warrior, as well as a big prize.  It’s everything
you’d expect from a mass gathering of the Arcane tribes, competitive, violent,
raucous and damned good fun!’

Mistral glanced up to see that he
was grinning at her and she instantly grinned back, feeling a wave of relief
that he appeared to have forgiven her recent erratic behaviour.

‘Tell me about the categories,’
she asked eagerly, warming to the idea of a three-day tournament designed
purely to test their skills to the limit.

‘Well we don’t know the details
until we register, but the last Festival entailed an open category on unarmed
combat –’

‘What do you mean “open
category?”’  Mistral interrupted.

‘No restrictions on who
enters.  Basically, it’s all weights, ages … and sexes.’

Mistral said, looking surprised,
‘Do they usually divide it into sexes?’

Saul smiled, ‘I know you tend to
think of yourself as a warrior rather than a woman, and I admit, you would
annihilate your average male, never mind female – but the amazon tribes will be
there and they can be pretty fearsome opponents.  In fact, I’m sure they
were banned one year for excessive violence against one of the elven tribes.’

‘Were they like Xerxes?’ 
Mistral asked suspiciously. 

Saul laughed, ‘I think that may
have been part of the dispute.’

‘Then I completely understand,
but I admit finding the idea of separate categories strange.  I’ve only
met two other female warriors, apart from Columbine and Golden –’

Saul cut across her in a hard
voice, ‘They don’t count as warriors and they won’t be breathing for much
longer either.’  

‘With you there brother.’
 Mistral agreed, frowning as she continued with her train of
thought.  ‘Oh yes … and the other two female warriors I’ve met, well, they
were … how do I describe it?’

‘More of a man than
Xerxes?’  Saul suggested with a grin.

Mistral laughed, ‘They did look
similar, even down to the scars and stubble.  I reckon they’d have been
able to hold their own in a fight with pretty much anyone.  Well, except
Grendel of course.’

‘He’s our secret weapon.’ 
Saul gave her a sly smile.  ‘Xerxes has been working out the odds on
Grendel being this year’s ultimate champion and for once, they’re too even for
him to bother with.’

Mistral laughed with him and felt
a burst of happiness at being friends with her brother again.  She began
to look forward to the next few days of gratuitous violence, drinking and
gambling … the perfect distraction whilst Fabian was away.

‘Tell me about the other
categories.’

‘Well, based on the last event
the first day will probably be unarmed fights all day.  No problems for
the Ri there.  It’s not a knockout tournament so even if you lose all your
bouts on the first day you’ll still be eligible to compete over the next two
days, if you’re still standing that is.’

‘I’ll make damned sure I
am!  Spectating is not my idea of fun.’ 

‘Yes, we know.  So, day two,
let’s see … if my memory serves me right it was live target shooting on
horseback.  A herd of wild pigs were released and everyone had initialled
bolts or arrows –’

‘Sounds familiar.’  Mistral
muttered darkly.

‘I’m sure it does.  But they
were aiming for pigs, not high-ranking Rochfortes.’

‘Thanks.’

‘Don’t mention it.  Moving
swiftly on to day three.  Armed combat –’

‘Swords?’  Mistral asked
quickly.

‘Swords, quarterstaves, knives …
you name it, they fought with it.’

Mistral sighed happily. 

‘Then they finish in the
afternoon with an event just for the finalists.  Last time it was a hunt
–’

‘Lame!’  Mistral exclaimed
disgustedly.

‘Let me finish.  Unarmed and
on foot … for a cockatrice –’

‘Oh now you’re talking
brother!’  Mistral gasped, a glow of reverence lighting her face.

‘Don’t get any ideas Mistral.’
 Phantasm’s cool voice blotted out her happy thoughts like a black
raincloud.  ‘I really don’t think that would fall into the specified
category of “safe and distracting”.’

Mistral turned to frown sharply
at him, ‘What’s that supposed to mean?’ 

Phantasm remained silent, wearing
his aloof and irritatingly enigmatic expression that begged to be
punched. 

Sensing her growing aggression,
Saul sighed and confessed their joint secret, ‘There were certain requirements
to your attendance at the festival.’

‘Oh?’  Mistral switched her
angry glare to Saul.  ‘Like what?’

‘Well, mainly that you didn’t die
over the course of the three days … oh, and we have to ensure that you don’t
get abducted again.’

‘And who set these
“requirements”?’

‘Leo.’

‘Damn Leo!’  Mistral
burst.  ‘He’s always ruining my fun!’

‘That’s family for you.’
 Phantom murmured and kicked his horse on to ride ahead before Mistral
could glare daggers at him too.

The journey to the Vale of
Belleville took them just over two days during which they hunted, bantered and
spent the nights gambling and listening to Xerxes telling stories.  For
Mistral the undemanding simplicity of each day was exactly what she
needed.  Apart from forcing herself to spend an hour each evening reading
her brothers’ auras she didn’t give her training a second thought.  She
was on holiday. 

Mistral had never spent much time
reading her brothers’ auras before and was surprised at the complexity of
each.  Xerxes’ was much as she had anticipated; a deep shade of ruby
reflecting his amorous nature but edged with a thick band of purple revealing
that he was frustrated with some aspect of his life.  Mistral was
unwilling to adopt the role of agony aunt to her brothers and didn’t discuss
her findings with them.  Although they had willingly agreed to being read
she could tell they were secretly uncomfortable with the idea of their private
emotions being revealed to her. 

Cain’s aura was a swirling mass
of metallic turquoise, reflecting perfectly his fun and curious nature. 
Brutus’s was predominately lilac with a strong royal blue ring.  From the
lilac part Mistral surmised a powerful sense of loyalty to his wayward
brother.  The blue signified a strong purpose, as to what she had no idea
but could hazard a guess that it was probably a promise made to their mother to
try and keep Xerxes out of too much trouble.  Or too many beds.

Grendel’s was typically
simplistic but no less gratifying.  A swathe of bright copper reflecting
his strong, stubborn nature and a shining gleam of lilac reflecting the bond he
felt for his brothers.

Saul.  Mistral had
hesitantly read his aura, frightened that she would see something that would
make her feel guilt.  Or pity.  However she had been pleasantly
surprised to see that his aura was a startling burst of bright yellow tinged
with a glimmering edge of mother of pearl.  Happiness and hope.  It
seemed that Saul was finally looking to the future and not dwelling on the
unrequited feelings he had harboured for her over the last year.

Mistral had read the twins so
many times over the last year that she barely registered their auras.  As
ever they were a vivid mix of curiosity, purpose and excitement, reflecting
their inexhaustible zest for life and ambitions for their future careers. 

‘Share!’  Phantom repeatedly
demanded in a low whisper whenever they were out of earshot of the others.

Mistral refused his
requests.  She was grateful to her brothers for allowing her the
opportunity to continue trying to master her gift and didn’t want to betray
their trust.  The fact that her efforts had so far been in vain was beside
the point. 

The Vale of Belleville appeared
out of the early morning mists on the third day.  A sweeping valley filled
with a sea of brightly colour tents, all pitched around a large empty space of
grass.

‘The Arena!’  Brutus
whispered, gazing down at the open area in the centre of the tents.

‘I can’t believe we’re actually
here.’  Xerxes sighed.

‘She would be so proud.’

Xerxes nodded wordlessly, his
eyes shining with emotion.

Mistral stared at them both in
disbelief.  What was it with her brothers and their overbearing
mothers?  The twins and now Xerxes and Brutus seemed to live in fear of
the women that had borne them, something Mistral was eternally grateful to not
suffer since she had no idea who her mother had been. 

Deciding that the tone needed
lifting before Xerxes and Brutus starting crying, Mistral turned to Cain and
raised an eyebrow.

‘Fancy a race to the Vale? 
Winner doesn’t have to pitch the tent?’

Cain grinned patted his mare’s
neck, a slight grey arab called Venus, ‘You’re on.  Hope you’re good with
ropes and tent pegs!’

‘Ha!  That’s going to be
your job!’  Mistral dug her heels into Cirrus, galloping away before the
others had even gathered up their reins.

A chorus of resounding yells
followed by a thunder of hooves told her that they had taken up her
challenge.  She glanced over her shoulder and grinned at the sight of her
brothers tearing after her at a flat-out gallop with Grendel running heavily at
the back.  Cirrus had more stamina than the other horses and held his
pace, but Cain’s lighter mare was blessed with an incredible turn of speed and
soon caught her up.  Cain swept past with a wicked grin on his face and
Mistral couldn’t help but laugh.  She watched him streak away over the
flat grassland, only hauling his mare to a jerky halt when he reached the start
of the steep path leading down into the Vale of Belleville.  

They gathered in a breathless
line at the edge of the steep path, looking down into the Vale.  Up close
the mass of tents showed just how popular the event was.  Mistral tried to
count them but quickly gave up.  There were just too many.

Xerxes spoke, his voice gruff
with excitement, ‘Are we ready brothers, sister?’  

‘Ready!’ 

‘Before we enter, I have one
question for you.’ he paused and lifted one eyebrow in a mocking
expression.  ‘What is our purpose?’ 

‘Glory!’  Brutus responded
automatically.

‘Money!’  Cain cried a
split-second after, causing a ripple of laughter.

‘For glory and for money
then!’  Xerxes laughed and kicked his horse into a gallop, leading their
headlong charge into The Festival of the Arcane.

They slowed their horses when the
path levelled out to ride into the Vale at a more sedate pace.  The
colourful array of tents reminded Mistral of Rufus the Red’s camp in The Desert
Lands and instantly bought to mind thoughts of Fabian.  She sighed
longingly at the image of him that appeared with heart wrenching clarity in her
mind’s eye.  To distract herself before she began to pine in earnest she
tried to take more interest in her surroundings and was soon gaping in
astonishment.

‘I bet this is an eye-opener for
you.’  Phantasm leaned over to whisper in her ear.